


Distracting Elements Of Wax And Silence

by DictionaryWrites



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, First Kiss, M/M, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Hobbit Kink Meme. Elrond/Thranduil: wax has always served to ground Thranduil in their time together, but after the effects of Smaug, lingering effects of draconic influence alter the experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distracting Elements Of Wax And Silence

"It hurts." Thranduil murmured, and despite how utterly quiet the words were they echoed in the silence of the room, leaving Thranduil embarrassed for having disturbed the peace surrounding them. 

"It’s meant to." Elrond pointed out, speaking a little louder and with more confidence; despite his words his tone was gentle, and he plainly had no wish to upset Thranduil with them. Thranduil, an hour ago, might have stiffened and spat some words of acid at the other Elf. Now, he did no such thing: he remained still in his place, keeping relaxed with a little effort.

He tilted the small bowl of the implement in his hand again, and the hot wax from within dripped. It was a soft green, and the colour suited the marble expanse of Thranduil’s back, and Elrond found himself pleased with the sight before his eyes.

Thranduil remained in place, bent as he was over the table, naked above his waist with his arms outstretched, and he was so still; Elrond was proud of the other Elf for his self-control, pleased with the fashion in which he could hold himself.

They had done this several times over many years, and each time was yet more sublime than the last for each of them. Thranduil enjoyed the pain, enjoyed the heat against his skin and Elrond’s calm hand controlling it, and Elrond enjoyed the art, enjoyed painting his living canvas in green wax that took the place of ink.

He continued, dripping wax slowly onto the skin, canting the tool and regularly filling it from the metal bowl that was heated by fire on the table beside him. Thranduil’s breaths were measured, but when he gave a sharp gasp, Elrond ceased his attentions and frowned.

He carefully grasped at the knife beside him, reaching forwards and carefully, ever-so-carefully, with the tenderness Elrond always carried even with a sharp silver blade in his hand, he scraped the wax away. Thranduil let out a noise of quiet pain, and Elrond said, “What troubles you, my friend?”

Thranduil trusted Elrond implicitly, as he had for dozens upon dozens of years now, and he let the illusion he’d painstakingly carried fade. Most of the damage rested upon his breast and the side of his face, but Elrond noticed now the deep scarring at the very top of his shoulder, where the wax had dropped a moment before.

He tutted, reaching out and smoothing over the marked skin with gentle fingers. “You ought not have hidden this from me.” He chided, without any true sternness to his tone. 

"The wounds are gone. The ghost of them lingers in my mind only - why should I tell of them?"

“[ _Pen-channas_.](http://./)" Elrond said, tutting once again, and Thranduil allowed the illusion to fade. "How long did you carry these wounds?"

"A while. I healed them: it is of no consequence." Thranduil maintained stubbornly, and Elrond hummed his disapproval. 

"And yet their ghost remains, taxing on your mind?"

"That will fade also."

"You hope."

"Elrond-" Thranduil began to protest, but Elrond hushed him, leaning and dragging his lips over the flesh Thranduil had revealed as previously hurt, and Thranduil took in a soft gasp, going limp on the table. With that, Thranduil began to remove all the wax from Thranduil’s skin with the same, slow scrape of the knife on skin.

It was more sensitive after the heat of the wax’s touch, and Thranduil let out soft noises as Elrond did so, occasionally shifting in the most marginal of fashions. White skin had turned pink with heat, but as soon as the wax curled away from the skin the pink faded before Elrond’s eyes, healing swiftly.

Another pleasant sight: Elrond was tremendously fond of it. “The wounds were from-“

"I don’t wish to speak of it."

"Very well." Elrond respected the other’s words, for he had been honest enough to speak swiftly of his discomfort: it was rare that Thranduil would do so, even under especial pressure. Thranduil stood when all of the wax was removed, and he did not meet the other’s eyes, looking away and to the ground.

Carefully, Elrond reached up and grasped at the other’s chin, turning his head and leaning in order to capture Thranduil’s lips beneath his own. Thranduil let out a soft sound but leaned into the other’s mouth despite himself, hands moving to the other’s hips.

It seemed an age before they pulled away from each other, the ghost of the kiss lingering on each of their lips. Elrond considered Thranduil, his pain after the death of his wife, and the further pain after Smaug’s desolation had affected him so powerfully, and Thranduil considered Elrond himself, Elrond’s ever-present care to offer peace in times that were not peaceful.

"Elrond-"

"Thranduil-" They each stopped, pursing their lips together and taking on the silence Elrond had so willingly broken a few minutes before. Elrond had not kissed another since Celebrían had passed to the Grey Havens all those years before; Thranduil had touched his lips to no other’s since his own wife Ólerybes had done the same.

Thranduil leaned closer, letting his forehead touch Elrond’s, and each of them closed their eyes, remaining pressed together in this fashion for a time. “Until we meet again.” Thranduil finally said softly, and his breath left a hot, sweet tingle on Elrond’s own lips, for they were that close together.

"Of course." Elrond murmured, and he released his hold on Thranduil’s hips (he had not realized he had been holding onto their slender jut so very tightly). Elrond allowed Thranduil to go, hearing his steps echo in the room as he picked up his tunic and walked away.

For a time longer, he remained utterly still, breathing slowly and committing all that they had done together in those few hours - their sessions were never longer than that, lest either of them do something regrettable - carefully to his impeccable memory.

With that, he nodded to himself and blew out the candles that were laid beneath the metal bowl, setting about cleaning the tool with which he’d dripped the green wax and the knife he’d used to remove it. It was better to busy his mind with such tasks: deep thought on these matters could be left until later.


End file.
